


sky map

by YukinaMika



Series: 2020 [41]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukinaMika/pseuds/YukinaMika
Summary: Stories told by stars.For Maribat Platonic November Day 16 - Stars
Relationships: Sabine Cheng & Talia al Ghul
Series: 2020 [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593016
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	sky map

**Gemini – The twins**

They met years ago, when Talia is still in her teenaged years of travelling the world and Sabine is still making a name for herself. They are the same yet different.

Sabine is soft curves and warm smiles and a dagger in her sleeve. She is the sun, nurturing faunas and floras and scorching the lands and cracking the earth.

Talia is hard edges and cold hands and a hidden fire in her green eyes. She is the sea, storming and swallowing everything in its wake and harboring life in her darkened depths.

“That is beautiful,” Sabine breaths, the corner of her lips quirking up, blood staining her clothes, “I did not know you have a perchance for art.”

Talia smirks, wiping her bloodied hand on her clothes, eyeing her masterpiece: the man who has been harassing Sabine just a while earlier when they were all thought to be escorts rather than the assassins that they are, pinned to the wall by the shoulders by her favored throwing knives.

“Father deems it necessary that I am educated in various fields,” she purrs, wiping the blood off her dagger and returning it to its sheath in one smooth motion, “Arts is, contrary to popular beliefs, an important part of life.”

The man is less vile like this: tongue cut off, choking on his own blood, eyes blinded and tendons severed. His look, finally, matches his worth.

“Would you like to do the honor?”

Sabine smiles, sweet and kind and nods, softly and pleased.

“If only you receive my gift,” she teases, waving her hand at the woman pinned to the wall by her knives – the very same woman who has felt Talia up and down and giggled when she slapped her hand away, “I am no artist but I put so much care and effort into that, you know.”

Talia’s smile is a thing of terrifying beauty.

“I would never dream of refusing such a thoughtful gift.”

* * *

**Andromeda – The chained maiden**

Talia crashes into her open arms the moment the door closes, duffle bag abandoned on the floor as they sink to the ground. Sabine sooths a hand down her back as the body in her embrace shakes.

“I am with child,” Talia speaks, breath too breathless, trembles in every word, “Sister, I am having a child of my own.”

It should be a joyous thing yet Talia’s voice breaks with every stutter and her body is like a leaf before a harsh wind, shaking and shaking, trembling and trembling. Her green eyes flickering against the oncoming wetness at their corner, throat working against some invisible boulders that no one is privy to.

“It is his, isn’t it?”

Sabine does not need to look down to see the wavering quirk of her sister’s lips. She does not need a glance at those eyes to see the yearning and the longing.

“Yes.”

Yes, because Talia has lovers of many genders yet there is only one of them that she bestows upon the name of “Beloved”. Yes, because Ra’s al Ghul would have never let his daughter keep the child of those he deems undeserving of the blood of the al Ghuls.

“Father wants them to be his heir,” Talia says, nuzzling into the crook of her sister’s neck the way she never would with anyone else, “He has already picked their name.”

“That is foreboding,” Sabine notes, nausea curling in her stomach.

“Yes,” Talia agrees but her smile is a hopeful, fragile thing. “If it is a boy then he would be named ‘Damian’. And if a girl, ‘Athanasia’ would be the most fitting for her.”

“To tame” and “eternal life”. It is no difficulty to see the ambitions harbored by the Demon’s Head.

She looks at Talia, looks at the sister who shares anything but blood with her. The small tremble in the shoulders. The set of the jaws. The slightest shake of her lips.

“You are… concerned.”

And perhaps, “afraid” would be a more appropriate word but Talia is prideful. Sabine has been by her side long enough to know that Talia would never accept her fear being called out. Better to call it worry or concern rather than the fear that it is.

“… The League is no place for a child,” is the quiet confession. Talia presses her forehead against her shoulder – a show of vulnerability that is rarely seen.

“Yes,” is Sabine’s reply.

Sentimentalities have no place in the League. The most affectionate things are the bonds between comrades and the bond between masters and servants and those can be severed as easy as splitting hair.

It is the main reason why Sabine chose to retire. To move away, to cut herself off from the shadows and build a life in Paris with her husband and child.

The only bond she has to the League is through Talia – the sibling who shares everything but blood with her.

“… Father is complex,” Talia offers, as if that is the answer to everything. “While he is indulgent enough with me, I doubt that he has neither this child’s nor mine best interest at heart.”

Sabine has nothing to refute against that. While it is true that Ra’s al Ghul seems to let his daughter get away with many things, his actions are always for his own interests.

“Do you want him to know?” Sabine offers. “About this child?”

Talia blinks, a light shining in her green depths until she squashes it mercilessly. Hope turns into something akin to pained caution that tears at Sabine’s heart.

“Father does not want him to know,” is the slow, measured answer.

Ra’s al Ghul, for whatever reason, wants this child to be his heir. And Talia’s Beloved, who has turned his back on the League times after times, would never let his blood be raised in the League of Shadows.

If, for whatever reason, the existence of this child is known by the outside world, Talia would be between a rock and a hard place. She would have to choose, between her Father and her Beloved.

And Talia loves too deeply to turn her back on either of them.

* * *

**Aries – The ram**

There has always been whispers of rebellion in the League whether it is in its prominence or on the edge of ruination. The differences, however, have always been on whether those whispers turn into actions or not.

It took Talia years after years to plan for this moment. She had choked on honey and walked on thorns just to see this moment comes into fruition.

“Be careful,” Sabine breaths, warm and soft and just everything that Talia is not. “If they ever suspect you…”

“A cut across their throat,” she huffs, a hand cupping her sister’s cheek, “Neither of us are amateurs, sister.”

Sabine chuckles, light and wobbly and perhaps motherhood has both softened and hardened her. Her eyes are softer, duller yet no less ferocious at the thought of harm happening upon those she considered hers.

Talia regrets letting go of her sister’s warmth but the sight of her son alone is enough to sooth her heart. She sinks to one knee, cupping her boy’s chin, mourning the fact that she would be letting him go.

Her son is the apple of her eyes. He is the result of their love. He is everything that she fights for, the very reason why she still wakes up every morning.

“Be good,” she whispers against his forehead, “Do me proud.”

Talia is not affectionate. She knows this, is aware of this.

There are other words, hundreds, if not thousands more to convey the burning sensation in her chest, to describe the lengths she would go for her child. Talia can only pray that he knows that he is loved.

“I shall,“ he swears and it is her Beloved in his solemn gaze and for a moment, Talia is both proud and saddened.

Proud because he is, undoubtedly, theirs: the fruit of their love, the best of her Beloved and her. It is in his green eyes that reflects her own. It is in his jaws, set and strong, immoveable and stubborn like his father.

Saddened because of the life that she has, more or less, condemned him to. Children has no place in the League and sentimental serves little to no purpose in their ranks.

“It will be fine,” Sabine whispers into her hair as her embrace winds around them, all protective and comforting like the blood running in their veins is one and the same, “We will meet again.”

It is a promise in her gray eyes as she leads Damian away, turning back to hold Talia’s eyes like she is challenging her to break it.

* * *

**Pegasus – The winged horse**

Their hands are stained with the blood they spilled, whether because of an order or in defense of someone else. And yet, their children, born from the shadows, are flying under the clear sky behind their respective masks and fighting the good fight.

The kind of fight that neither Sabine nor Talia has ever dreamed of fighting.

It is ironic that the children of assassins would be fighting for justice, for the weak and the forsaken. And yet, maybe, just maybe, this is the proof of something has finally gone right.

"Robin and Ladybug," Sabine breaths, breathless and almost overwhelmed, "The Boy Wonder and the wielder of Creation."

Pride is a sweet, sweet thing on her tongue as Talia leans against Sabine, the pictures, some blurry, some breathtaking, scattering on the coffee table.

"It is wonderful, is it not?" she purrs, heart lightest it has ever been in years, "Seeing our children spread their wings."

"It is," Sabine murmurs, reaching out to pick up a photo of Ladybug crouching on a gargoyle, "They have grown."

No longer are they little kids stumbling after their mother and aunt. No longer are they toeing the fine line between white and black.

Damian is still insecure of his place but he now knows that he has another family with his aunt and uncle and the cousin who he really can't see eye to eye. He is still edging forward on careful feet but he is calmer now. Less prone to explosive dramas.

Marinette is still gentle and kind but she now holds the eyes of bullies, chin tilted up almost challengingly. She is still kind and softhearted as she stares straight at her enemies and knock down their house of cards.

"It is fascinating, isn't it? That our children achieved what we could not."

* * *

**Corona borealis – The northern crown**

Sabine finds herself sitting face to face Talia in a small café just a little bit away from the bakery, steaming cups of coffee between them. The quiet sound of music flitting softly in the background, the whole café murmuring with activities of the staffs.

“I have made up my mind,” Talia announces, her voice a measured drawl.

Sabine hums, swirling her coffee and turns her eyes on her sister, taking in the tension buzzing under her skin. Whatever that makes Talia nervous is not a thing that can be easily brushed over.

“Should I be worry?”

Because Talia, as a rule, does not hesitate over many things. As much as she tries to argue otherwise, Sabine knows that her sister-in-arm lives with her heart on her sleeves. Making up her mind means Talia has to level with her own heart with facts rather than feelings. And it would leave her heartbroken while she clings onto her decision, too prideful to let go.

“Perhaps not,” Talia smiles, quiet and sad and Sabine is alerted, “You have been pushing for this since the start, sister.”

Sabine does not make a habit on disapproving of Talia’s decisions on what to do with her life. After all, they are both grown-ups who know better than policing each other’s life. They have others who had tried, or are trying in Talia’s case, to control their own lives.

“I am putting the past behind me, sister,” Talia speaks, idly playing with her spoon, “Beloved made his choice and I have made mine.”

The spoon makes a desolated clinking sound against the ceramics as Sabine chases after the cup that slipped from her nerveless fingers. She is, frankly, a touch clumsy as she sets the cup down on the table and stares incredulously at her sister.

“Your ears work just fine,” Talia huffs, something like gentleness in the quirk of her lips, “Don’t look so shocked, sister.”

“Can you blame me, though?”

Talia loves deeply. She can move heaven and earth just for her loved ones. She has stained her hands with blood for them and will continue to do so, if push comes to shove.

She is not someone who gives up easily. Even more when it comes to her Beloved.

"Beloved has made himself clear," Talia insists, strong and unwavering and she is everything that Sabine admires, "I cannot chase after a lost cause forever."

"Will you be okay?" Sabine asks because that is the important question here.

Talia is not one who can just stop loving. When she loves, it is with all her heart. She bleeds for them with a selflessness that she refuses to admit to possess.

It is the same reason why she comes back to Ra's, again and again even if the man hurts her, whether intentional or not. It is the same reason she chases after her Beloved, knowing that nothing good can come out of this. It is the same reason that she risks everything to send Damian away, even if her heart shatters at the mere thought.

Talia is so small yet her shoulders are set, strong and unyielding. She has made her choice and she will stand by it.

"I will be."


End file.
